


when the morning comes (I wanna be here)

by jdphoenix



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Episode: s01e02 0-8-4, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 14:04:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18389894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/pseuds/jdphoenix
Summary: With the Bus grounded for repairs, Jemma is eager to touch base with a certain specialist.





	when the morning comes (I wanna be here)

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Amber Run's "just my soul responding." Which should not be an indication of the tone of the fic.

Jemma’s brain is a remarkable thing. She’s a genius and there’s no point in denying it. But for all her intellect and mental acuity, her brain still has a habit of disconnecting when her body is enjoying more pleasurable pastimes. Typically this leads to some inelegant babbling, perhaps even a little begging. Though on occasion it has led to break-ups (Greg Lawson was out of her bed and halfway out her door before she realized she’d compared his prowess to that of her previous boyfriend) or, as it does on this particular morning, laughter.

“The field team’s not such a bad idea anymore, is it?” she asks, still drifting in the warmth of her afterglow.

Grant chuckles while he rolls off her. “Depends on your perspective.”

Cold without him, she drags the sheet up and holds it to her chest while she regards him seriously. Her brain is beginning to click back on and just in time because this is a serious discussion, one they’ve been having off and on for months now. “I’m looking for the perspective of the man who just had sex he wouldn’t have had if said field team hadn’t brought me halfway around the world.” She brings one hand down on his arm. The sound it produces is loud in the quiet of his temporary quarters but it’s not painful. “And _don’t_ say you might have anyway.”

A crass joke about picking up a strange woman is just the sort of thing she loves about him, but this is hardly the time.

He turns his head and his expression has lost all sense of contentment. “ _This_ man is thinking about how you nearly died.”

She focuses on maintaining eye-contact, the better to appear sincere. “The Bus looks worse than it really was.” That isn’t a lie. Thanks to the hole the 0-8-4 blew in the body of the plane, their landing was rather rocky. The cosmetic damage alone will take days to repair, to say nothing of the structural damage. Jemma was hoping she might spend that time with Grant, but they’ll really need to get this hashed out or it will linger and spoil the mood.

“Oh? So you weren’t held hostage?”

She can’t help her gasp. The details of the mission are classified and, while Grant’s clearance level is impressively high, not even he should have access to them until the debriefs are completed and the final reports are filed. How could he know?

His hand is gentle on her free arm, forcing her elbow to bend so her hand is between them. Her hand … and her mottled wrist. “I know I didn’t do that,” he says.

She cradles her hand to her chest while her thoughts ricochet from the past day to the more recent night. The heart-stopping fear when she saw Fitz threatened. How long has Grant known? The feeling of helplessness when her hands were bound behind her back. Did he know from the moment she came in? The terror of knowing thirty-thousand feet of open air was only a misstep away. Has he been thinking about it the whole time?

“It’s okay.” His hand wraps around hers, so strong yet so gentle. “I know this means a lot to you and I’m not gonna try to talk you out of it. But you’ve gotta let me worry about you, all right?”

She slips her hand free to cup his cheek, just avoiding the fading bruise beneath his eye. “I suppose that’s only fair.”

He winces, though it can’t be in pain. “ _That_ isn’t gonna happen again.”

“Oh, it isn’t? Are you dropping out of the rotation and taking a desk assignment?” That would be rather inconvenient given that one of the benefits of her joining this team team meant the increased likelihood their assignments might bring them near enough for more of these meetings.

He pulls a face. “No, but it never should’ve happened in the first place.” He hesitates in a way that tells her it’s above her clearance level but that doesn’t stop him elaborating. “It was a simple mission—in and out-”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“-but some hacker group fouled it up. The Rising Tide made public the location of a certain item SHIELD wanted out of public hands. In minutes every bum who might be able to line up a buyer was descending on the place and you-know-who was right in the middle.”

He smiles, clearly expecting her to make the requisite Voldemort joke. She doesn’t though because she has a sinking feeling she knows precisely who was behind that little data leak.

“What?” he asks. When she doesn’t answer, he shifts, pushing himself up so he can spring out of bed at a moment’s notice. (Not that he wouldn’t have been able to do that regardless.) “What’s wrong, baby? It’s just a scratch; guy got in a lucky hit, that’s all.”

“I know, it’s just-” She pushes herself up, wishing she’d thought to bring a beer or two with her. She could really use a drink. “The team. We’ve … added a member.”

“Triplett not enough to protect you _and_ Fitz?”

He’s worried about that, she knows, and it would likely set his mind at ease to reveal that the Cavalry is the Bus’s pilot, but given what she’s about to say, she thinks she’d better keep that for later.

“Coulson’s taken on a consultant. A – hacker.”

Grant’s face goes uncomfortably blank. Jemma hates when he does that but in this particular instance, she really can’t complain. Likely he’s refraining from far worse—like hunting down Skye and murdering her.

“She’s very sweet.”

Grant sputters.

“I think you’d like her.”

“You’re joking.”

“I know she compromised your mission-”

Grant leaps up to pace the cramped quarters. “She nearly got me killed!”

“You said it was a lucky hit.”

Her dangerous tone doesn’t make an impact. “And it could’ve been a lot luckier! The Rising Tide is dangerous and now they’ve got access to all our systems! What is your CO _thinking_?”

Jemma chooses not to answer that. Engaging Grant when he’s like this will only rile him up more, better to allow him to bluster until his anger gives way to-

He drops down next to the bed, taking one of her hands between his. “I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t your decision.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Perhaps it’s a bad idea, but she can’t help adding, “But I _like_ Skye.”

His jaw twitches. “You’re not gonna quit the team?” As his tone plainly expects a refusal, she allows herself to smile.

“I’m afraid not.” She lowers her voice conspiratorially. “Fitz appears to have a crush on her. Someone has to protect him if she turns out to be playing us.”

He leaves her side just long enough to grab something from his bag. “I was going to give you this before you shipped out.” The bracelet he holds out is a simple metal band, unadorned, and suspiciously similar to the tracking bracelets SHIELD uses to restrict the access of non-agents on agency property.

She says as much but Grant is shameless.

“I may have picked up a defunct one somewhere and done a guy in IT a favor to get it re-purposed. All you have to do is twist this joint here and I’ll get a call, no matter where I am. Then I’ll come.”

Jemma can’t help the warmth that bubbles up in her chest. Sometimes, without even meaning to be, Grant is unspeakably sweet. He’s a study in contradictions—deadly and gentle, fearsome and kind, crass and sweet. It’s impossible not to grow fond of him, which is why she’s worked hard to convince him their relationship will be better off with her entering the field.

She holds out her hand and, with obvious relief, he closes the bracelet over her bruised wrist. He kisses her pulse, the simple gesture sending a jolt to her core. She’s more than pleased when Grant follows it up by pressing her down onto the mattress. His lips mark a path from her neck down to her breasts.

“And if that hacker tries anything-” he says between kisses.

“I’ll tell Trip first,” she says quickly, struggling to think when her brain wants only to shut off. It _is_ his job, after all, and he’d be hurt if she went around him. “And if he’s unavailable, I’ll tell the Cavalry. Then I’ll call you.”

Grant’s arm around her back jerks. Given the angle he’s at, she can’t see his face, but she can imagine it well enough. “The Cavalry?” he echoes.

“Mm-hm.” She shifts her hips against his. “She’s the pilot.”

Though it means a brief delay, Grant’s shock is more than worth it.

 


End file.
